


The rubble or our sins

by purple_cube



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_cube/pseuds/purple_cube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sometimes, I don't know whether to kiss you or kill you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The rubble or our sins

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Livejournal community comment_fic, for the theme 'dialogue' (although this isn't as dialogue-heavy as I wanted it to be). The exact prompt was for any fandom, with the line "sometimes, I don't know if I should kiss you or kill you..." The title is taken from the song Pompeii by Bastille.

 

 

She had forgiven him for intervening on the rooftop with Bane’s men – was even willing to admit that she had needed his help, after all – but _this_ is inexcusable.

He knocks the gun out of her hand seconds before a roundhouse kick hits one of the gangsters approaching from his right.

“It’s me!” he shouts above the mayhem in the club.

She punches an attacker before dipping inches beneath another fist. Rising swiftly, Selina lifts a leg to send her opponent flying to the ground.

“I know!”

He pauses for a fraction of a second, time enough to convey his surprise at her acidic response.

They separate, each occupied with their own attackers as more of the club owner’s men seem to surround them. She holds her own, even fancies that she’s in better shape than he is as she glances at the bodies crumpling around them. Eventually, they’re the only two standing, the noise fading to just the sounds of their own breathing.

“You don’t seem happy to see me,” he comments, echoing a conversation that they had a lifetime ago.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” The anger surprises even her.

He shrugs. “Well, I lied about the autopilot,” is the reply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

She shakes her head, not for the first time wondering how they can be so alike and yet so different. “Sometimes, I don’t know whether to kiss you or kill you,” she spits out as she walks past him.

Bruce, at least, has the sense not to follow her.

*

She’s waiting for him when he returns to his apartment, having waited until he left the club to follow him. She had climbed deftly up the fire escape as he slid his key into the door at the front of the building.

He clicks the door shut, and she glides across the room to meet him.

He becomes aware of her presence a split second before she reaches him, and his arms are raised as she makes contact. His defense isn’t enough to stop her from shoving him hard against the door.

“Is that your idea of a _thank you_ ”? His arms fall as he recognizes her in the moonlight, but she can see his muscles still taut. _Clever boy. Keep your guard up_.

Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t need rescuing.”

“I wasn’t willing to take the chance.”

Slowly and deliberately, Selina relaxes her upper body muscles and her stance, watching in satisfaction as he follows suit.

She smiles widely, head tilted and eyes dipped. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

She knows that she’s overcooked it when his fists clench, but he responds too slowly as she dives forward. Her hands filled with his shirt, she throws him across the room, diving on top of him as he falls to the ground. He manages to grab a hold of her on his way down, throwing her off balance and using his own weight to roll them over until he is on top.

He grins down at her, but his smile is cut short as she draws a knee up and into his groin. He shifts his weight onto one side, and she uses the opportunity to roll them again, now inches from the frame of the bed. She punches him, square on the jaw, and uses the time that he takes to recover to grab the handcuffs from her belt, swiftly clicking one end shut around the wrist that is closest to her, and the other around the leg of the bed.

“Selina,” he warns, voice almost low enough to be that of his _powerful friend_.

“Mr. Wayne?” she responds, sweetly.

“I should’ve known as soon as I saw you.” He strains against the handcuffs. “The pitch of your voice gets just that little bit higher when you’re in work mode.”

Her mind drifts back to a moment alone with him in her apartment in Gotham. _Mr. Wayne? I’m sorry they took your money._ The reply had been so swift and so sure. _No, you’re not._

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

His eyes drift down her body, taking in her work clothes. His free hand rises, though he hesitates for a moment before placing it on her leather-clad thigh. “Maybe I don’t. Then again, maybe I do. Either way, I think I’m going to enjoy finding out.”

She reaches behind her for the small dagger hidden in her belt. The blade glistens in the dim light that seeps through the open window. His breath hitches, and she can’t help but grin.

“Like I said earlier, I don’t know whether to kiss you or kill you.”

He jerks upward then, his lips grabbing hers for the lightest of touches. He watches her for a moment, gauging her reaction, before moving forward for a longer, deeper kiss as his hand slides further up her thigh.

“Made your decision?” he murmurs as he pulls away. He sounds confident, but his groin presses against her with an urgency that betrays his demeanor.

She smiles – only the slightest curl of lips – and it’s enough to make his eyes go wide. Selina runs the tip of the blade over the curve of his jaw and across his neck, coming to a rest at the dip of his collarbone. Her mouth widens to a grin as she watches the movement of his throat when he swallows.

“Not yet.”


End file.
